


Hearing

by buttheyrebrothers



Series: 5 senses [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Post-Episode: s09e23 Do You Believe In Miracles?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttheyrebrothers/pseuds/buttheyrebrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Dean didn't wake up as a demon and Sam had to give him a hunters funeral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearing

There are many sounds I learned to love.

The sound of songbirds chirping in the morning, greeting the new day no matter how dark the last night had been.

The rhythmic tapping of rain flogging against my window like a heartbeat lulling me to sleep, _thump_ _thump_ _thump_.

Jess humming softly and totally out of tune in the kitchen whenever she was baking or cooking something delicious, the sound still sweeter than any food she could have prepared.

The deep purring of the Impala, a sound I will forever associate with long sunny days on empty highways and the best naps I ever had. I have lost count of all the times I’ve fallen asleep to the sound of her engine rumbling underneath me.

But none of these sounds is my favorite.

My favorite sound will forever be shaped by your mouth, carried by your gravelly voice, echoed by the beating of our hearts. When my name leaves your lips and reaches my ears not only a breath later I’m finally home. I will feel delighted, grateful, relieved. _Happy_. Because you are still here, you can still say my name. It doesn’t matter if it’s said scolding or in anger or with that reverend tone you sometimes can’t seem to help.

No one says my name like you, no one’s vocal chords dance around it like yours, like it’s the most beautiful melody they’d ever felt, every single time.

Sometimes I think I remember every moment I heard you say it, even if I know that’s not possible. But there’s also no way your mouth was made to be the home of only one word and yet it is. I hear you laughing and calling me a sap right now and maybe that’s my second favorite sound, I’m not sure. Let’s not talk about the things I don’t know because it would take us forever. I wanted to tell you about the most divine sound I ever knew (I still hear you laughing, shut up, jerk).

I remember when I was very little – most memories from that time feel like looking through foggy glasses– that you used to lay with me when I couldn’t sleep at night. You’d lie next to me and you’d rub my back and whisper ‘ _it’s okay, Sammy, ’m here, always be here, close your eyes, Sammy’_. I always fell right back to sleep. I was safe with you.

Remember when we were a bit older; you were maybe eight, I think and you had this GI Joe action figure? You always played with it and I was so jealous. Not because I wanted your toy, it was never that simple with us. I wanted you to play with me; I wanted your eyes on me again. So one day I took it, intended to hide this thing someplace so that you would have to play with me again instead. But I accidentally broke it. You were so angry. I never knew my name could sound like this from your mouth, like you wanted to get it out as fast as you possibly could, not wanting for it to be any part of you longer than necessary. It took me off guard and I could only stare at you with quivering lips and liquid eyes.

You had told me to go away for a bit and I didn’t understand back then. Now I think you did it so that you wouldn’t yell at me, wanted to get your anger back in check and not end up hurting me over some toy, no matter how much you liked it. Bobby took pity on you back then and fixed it in under twenty minutes. And what was the first thing you did afterwards? You came to find me, knocking softly on the door like avoiding any harsh sounds would take back the memory of harsher words. You came into my room – our room, as we could ever sleep in separate ones – and whispered ‘ _Sammy’_ , nothing more. But the sound of your voice was enough, soft like the first snow but full of emotion. It said sorry in every atom it jarred from your lips to my ears, a cascade of regret. How could I ever be mad at you when you sounded like this?

I heard your voice say my name in so many ways and I’m in love with all of them.

 _‘Sammy’_ carried with laughter through the air; surprised delight when I said or did something you’d never expected from your shy and dorky little brother.

 _‘Sammy’_ cried in agony; knees hitting mud, hands flittering over my broken body and voice brittle like too dry twigs.

 _‘Sammy’_ moaned in mindless pleasure; whimpering breaths and writhing body underneath mine, my name dripping from your throat like a prayer.

‘ _Sammy’_ whispered like a soft caress; your voice tethering me to this world, a beacon I so desperately needed when I couldn’t trust my own mind.

You would probably be embarrassed right now, beg me to stop, your credo of _no chick flick moments_ firmly in place.

But you can’t. Because you left me here alone, even though you swore you wouldn’t leave me. Your body is burning on a pyre right in front of me and mine is numb from grief. I can feel it rising in my throat, taste it in my mouth. If I choke it out it will be your name and that would sound too much like goodbye.

I am so angry at you, flames of furious rage filling the emptiness that lurks beneath it. But I will forgive you.

You only have to say my name.


End file.
